


Never Apart

by Diopside17



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Phan Fluff, Phan-Relationship, Phanfiction, TributeToOrlando
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7349926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diopside17/pseuds/Diopside17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tragedy separates the pair...will Dan drop his girlfriend and follow his heart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jealous

Phil felt alone. He hated it, purely because he wasn't. He merely felt that he'd been drained of his character when Dan was with Maddie. Sure, he liked her enough to politely smile when she invited herself round, or look away while she piled her tongue into Dan's mouth. Yet, there was something disconcerting about the way she smiled with her perfect teeth, the menacing way she barricaded Dan with her curtain of golden princess locks. Phil disliked her. Strongly. Besides, he never hated anyone; especially if they were Dan's friend. Or girlfriend, for this matter. Phil had often tried to subtly indicate that he disapproved of Maddie; however, Dan was always far too lost in his own realm of fantasy and love. He had changed ever since Maddie had taken over. His eyes had lost their sparkle, he spoke less, he was definitely not the same. Maddie had whisked him away to a world where Phil had barely even stepped; she made him feel detached, rejected, even scared, the times she came over. Today was one of those days. Despite being tragically in love, Dan still tried to accomodate his best friend into his 'friendly dates', as Maddie repulsively called them. Phil did not manage to see how he would fit into this setting but he accepted gratefully so he could support Dan. 

The Central London sun burned unusually hot through the arid air. Dan and Maddie had found a shady spot and were making out in the most public manner. Maddie looked away from Dan for a split second. "Philip," she smirked, "get us some drinks, will you?" She turned her attention back to Dan, who looked helpless as she persuaded him to carry on with their impolite passion. Phil shrugged weakly, never one to argue. Even so, the dry atmosphere drew his attention to his desire to quench his own thirst.  
As he walked down the street of sun-bleached families and cherry-ripe children, Phil formulated a plan to postpone his return to the love-lust couple. Surely there must be a Starbucks nearby? A video game shop? Yes, he could wait there a while. He kept his head down busying himself with thoughts of forthcoming peace. He smiled to himself, the first real smile he had felt that day. It felt good. For the first time in his life, Phil felt happy to be alone.


	2. Tribute to Orlando

Phil wandered into Waterstones, in a slight daze from the increasing heat outside. He never got substantially tanned and he was grateful for that; he knew his ink blotched hair would never appreciate it if so. His paper finger scored a booked close to him, for he never wished to judge a book by its cover, so to speak.   
'May I help you?' This came from a tallish, smart, spectacled bloke, no older than Phil was, accompanied by his contrasting smaller friend who styled his hair not indifferently to him. Phil speculated the eager pair, willingly noticing their scratched nametags: 'Jack' read one and 'Dean' the other.   
'No thanks...' he said finally although he couldn't help wondering about the aura of familiarity that surrounded them. He shook it off and willed himself to continue his book hunt. Phil soon immersed himself in a collection of anime cartoons: surprisingly named 'The Urge' by Eliza Pancakes. He whisked himself away to a world of vampires and growing hands inside bodies and… screaming? He looks up, dropping his book. A clammy hand grabbed his wrist before he could gather himself. 'Come here!' yelled Jack, the bookseller. He shaft Phil down into the staff cupboard, wedged with books. He tried to question him but was clapped by Dean's small, sweaty hand. 'Sssh!' he whispered. Phil crouched in this claustrophobic space; his long legs ached, his foot fell asleep. His ocean of eye flooded with shock and terror.   
Nobody had stopped screaming; he could hear the gunshots. He forced his hands over his ears. 'No more. Please, no more.' he tried to reassure himself. The shots became louder. 'No.' he whispered.   
'No.'   
That was the last thing he could remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a tribute to what happened in Orlando not too long ago. The horror of the event will never wear off and I wanted everyone to remember that what happened was real: not just in a fan fiction.


	3. *determination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may trigger self harm. Please do not read if you think you are in a vulnerable position. Thank you and stay safe.

Dan stumbled as he tried to walk. There was a searing in his leg which shot around his body. Shots. He barely remembered them and as he searched his memory, all he recollected was the soft touch of Maddie's fingers, working warm magic, turn cold as she froze with pain, locked in his lips. Dan tried to stop his anguish by looking away from her, all the blood, everyone. As he bought himself back from his numb senses, a panic set into him. A smug voice echoed at the back of his head as he replayed the moment: 'Philip, get us some drinks…'  
Dan felt sick as he pushed his head into the firm bark of a tree. He wanted to vomit up his sadness and pain, but there was still a depression which drenched his soul. He breathed slow and deep, letting the individual ridges of bark cut into his forehead. How could he only survive? Dan tried to fool, trick, deceive himself into saying Phil was alive. He picked at the tree and with remaining strength, cut his wrist. 'Punish yourself,' his brain said, 'Phil is dead because of you. You have to feel the pain he felt when he died...' The insults, lies and destruction continued; Dan could not, would not hear the sirens as they approached. He was driven away from the tree and laid down on a stretcher. He felt sick again; however, this was not the same. He felt hunger, hunger to be mended, hunger to be loved. Hunger for vengeance. 'I will never giver up, Phil.' he muttered to himself, 'I will find you.'


	4. Journey

A headache hammered it's way in as Phil woke up. The power of the light temporarily blinded him as he struggles to remember what had happened. Although his vision clarified, Phil refused to look. He could hear footsteps outside the cupboard door but squeezed his eyes firmly shut; he did not wish to traumatise himself with the aftermath of his witnessing. He hugged his knees. Phil concentrated on listening; listening to the footsteps pacing, listening to the hum of muffled words, listening to Jack's straggled breath... No, Phil would not let this happen. Jack had saved his life, that was time for Phil to do the same. He opened his eyes, one at a time. To his horror, he saw that the books had fallen everywhere and Dean had turned cold. Before Phil even turned to Jack, he went to Dean, the empty wells of his eyes, the gape of his breathless mouth. He closed those eyes, closed that mouth and put Dean Dobbs, the bookseller to rest.  
'Jack,' Phil stuttered, 'it's going to be alright.' Jack laughed at this cliché, but his joy soon turned to a coughing wheeze. Phil smiled, helplessly. 'What songs can you remember? Sing them. It'll help.' Jack tried to laugh again, but couldn't. 'Okay,' he croaked. 'Ain't no sunshine, when she's gone…'  
Phil stood up, shaking, and unlocked the door. The blue light of the siren flashed on his tear-streaked face. 'HELP!' he yelled, before crumbling to the floor. Before him, there was a dead Dean, a dying Jack. There was no love or comfort in this world anymore. Phil was wrapped in a luminous blanket and was whisked away to places he didn't know, with questions that couldn't be answered, with people he didn't recognise. Everywhere he looked there was blood and somewhere, under it all, there was Dan. Why did he leave him? He would never see Dan again because he didn't have the courage to stay. Phil did not listen to the words of comfort, he did not listen to the siren calls. He could only think about Dan, how he was never there for him. Phil tortured himself with these thoughts as he was driven away, to somewhere else he didn't know, more questions that couldn't be answered, more people he didn't recognise. He didn't care. He had lost the only thing that mattered to him. Phil tasted blood. He would find Dan, dead or alive.


End file.
